


once broken, twice fixed

by karasunotsubasa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gun Violence, Gun Wounds, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hunter Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Victor Nikiforov, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27312112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: On a night he is hunted, Victor faces more than losing his life. He faces the name of the man he once loved. The name, which now belongs to the one who points a gun right at him. A gun meant to kill.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 101





	once broken, twice fixed

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in 2019/10

The sky is dark that night. Almost as dark as the blood that oozes out of Victor’s side, more and more with every second. The hand he has pressed to the wound is warm with it. It’s filthy, too. Victor lifts it and licks at the blood, which is his own in a way, but also not entirely.

His fangs itch.

He needs to feed.

He’s bleeding too much, and he hasn’t eaten in so long…

The street lamp winks somewhere before him, as if to show him the way. He follows the light, hoping to find some poor soul along the way to sate the thirst that begins to build up in his throat. It isn’t the uncontrollable kind yet, but soon it will be. And then… then it will be impossible to avoid being killed.

The streets are empty. Not a single human in sight.

Once more, Victor curses the hunter.

He came out of nowhere. Victor was harmlessly walking home after a few drinks, and then all of a sudden there was a muffled gunshot, a wooden bullet in his belly and pain, pain, _lots of pain_.

Blood followed, of course. The scent combined with the pain made Victor’s head spin hard enough to bare his fangs in public. That was his mistake, he realized as soon as another bullet bit into his shoulder. One more drove into his thigh within the span of a second and, shocked into anger, Victor was forced to flee. Ridiculous that him, an almost 400 year old vampire, had to tuck his pride under the collar and leave, but in his weakened state he wouldn’t be able to fight. He knew that well. And so did the hunter, who came after him.

With a snarl of exasperation, Victor left the busy main streets. The bullets from his shoulder and thigh he plucked out with his fingers, they were shallow enough for him to reach. The one in his guts, though… He grimaces as he feels the wood rub against his organs. _It burns_. It burns and makes it hard to focus. Too hard to hunt. And Victor is too weak to enthrall, too weak to enchant.

Too weak to hide, it seems, too.

A wooden bullet wheezes past his ear.

He stumbles, supporting himself with one hand on a nearby wall, then looks back. At the end of the alley stands a hooded figure of the hunter who ruined Victor’s night. As Victor watches, trying to make out anything about the cloaked figure, the hunter reloads his gun.

Maybe he should just let him kill him, the thought crosses Victor’s mind briefly. He’s lived long enough and lately… well, lately life just hasn’t been like he remembers. So would it be so bad if he just…?

Another bullet shoots past him, followed by one more, which bites into the building wall behind Victor’s shoulder. Shrapnel smacks Victor on the cheek, cutting his skin open. A breath of annoyance leaves his lips.

When the hunter pulls the trigger for the third time, Victor doesn’t wait for what’s to come. He kicks off at a run, his every step making his side burn harder. The bullets rain after him, their muffled snapping against the concrete dogging at his heels.

Victor takes a turn, then another, and then… then he comes to a dead end.

Walls close in on him from all three sides and the hunter’s footsteps echo right around the corner. Victor can hear them as clearly as all the heartbeats within the buildings that rise around him. He looks at his surroundings, fighting for a chance to live despite pretending to be so at peace with dying.

Then, suddenly, he realizes that he’s already dead.

The absurdity of the thought makes him laugh. He stifles the first giggle, but another comes and one more, and then Victor laughs out loud. He laughs until his sides hurt, until the burning inside his gut rises up his throat and he pukes out fresh, warm blood.

Bent in half, he’s laughing and spitting blood when black leather boots come into his field of vision. Victor wipes his lips with the back of his hand and looks up, still with an uncontrollable grin.

From his position on the ground he can finally look under the hood of the hunter’s cloak. Brown eyes gaze down at him, shining with pity.

“Do I really look that pathetic to you?” Victor asks.

The hunter doesn’t reply. Victor wants to sigh, but a cough rips at his lungs and he spits another mouthful of blood at the man’s feet. His amusement turns into something bitter inside his lungs.

“Kill me then,” Victor orders. “Be done with it. I’m ready.”

But the hunter doesn’t oblige. He watches Victor suffer for a moment longer, then crouches before him. His gun rests on his thigh, silver and gleaming in the sparse flashes of the neon signs from the street behind his back.

“Whoever told you I want to kill you?”

Victor’s eyes snap up to the hunter’s face. He does not seem to be lying. Even his steady heartbeat gives honesty to his words.

_He means it._

“Why then—“

“To make sure I can,” comes a reply. And it shocks Victor to the core.

“Just for that? You—“

“And then, to make an even trade.”

Victor falls quiet. His gut throbs as the bullet keeps making him sick from the inside. He swallows hard, tasting his own blood, sickly sweet, but not enough to sate the hunger that crawls up his throat more acute with every swallow.

“A trade? With me? I could snap your neck in a second.” Victor rasps a laugh. He almost chokes on it, too.

“Not before I shoot you first,” the hunter replies. His eyes gleam threateningly. “Listen closely to what I offer, vampire. You can decide whether you live or die after.”

Victor scowls, but falls silent to allow the hunter to go on.

“A life for a life. Yours for that of my sister,” the hunter explains.

“Your sister?” Victor repeats. “Isn’t she one of _you_?”

A hunter, like the rest of the family. That kind of business runs in blood like Victor’s curse does through his.

“She was,” the hunter admits. His face is colder now, closed off. “She isn’t anymore.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw, an oddly sensual display of familial affection. Victor finds himself caught, rapt with attention.

How long has it been since this happened?

Before he can ask why, or simply offer his condolences, the hunter lifts his head and his eyes bore into Victor with a strange force, so demanding of obedience that Victor, a vampire of four hundred years, straightens his spine as if ready to serve. As if this single look returned him to the time of enslavement and servitude from centuries before.

“Will you help?” comes a question, short and direct.

The hunter offers his hand. His pulse has quickened, with hope and excitement, both. Victor hears it flutter in the vein on the hunter’s wrist. It would be so easy to snatch it and bite into the thin skin, to have all this delicious blood flow into his dry throat…

But he doesn’t. Being a killer, a simple-minded blood-sucker, has lost its charm decades ago.

Victor takes the hand.

“I’ll help,” he promises. “A life for a life.”

“That it will be,” the hunter agrees and pulls Victor up to his feet. He’s strong, and catches Victor under arm when he sways as another wave of pain bores into his gut.

“What’s your name, hunter?” Victor asks, aware of the warmth of the man’s body pressed into his.

“What is yours, vampire?” the hunter returns.

Victor grins, somehow having expected that. “Victor. Victor Nikiforov. You may have heard of me. I was the one who introduced the-”

“Yuuri.”

The voice is quiet, but it shuts him up expertly. More than that, though, it echoes in Victor’s heart with a feeling he has long since forgotten.

“My name is Yuuri Katsuki,” the hunter says.

Startled into a memory of a sweet smile and warm lips pressed to his, Victor laughs. Blood wells in the corners of his mouth, and he swallows it, feeling sick with more than pain and bloodlust.

He turns his head to catch the suspicious gaze of brown eyes. Eyes that, now that he knows his name, look so similar to the ones he once loved.

“What a coincidence, Yuuri,” Victor says, leaning harder against the man who got closer to killing him than anyone else. “I knew a Yuuri Katsuki once. Any relatives you’ve been named after by chance?”

The look he receives tells him all he needs to know.

“Let’s go,” Yuuri orders, pulling Victor along.

But Victor comes willingly. He loops his arm through Yuuri’s and strolls at his side as if the wooden bullet in his belly wasn’t there at all. Yuuri seems surprised by his change of attitude, but he allows it as long as they keep on walking to the Katsuki family house, where Yuuri guides Victor to the basement in which, on a single whiff of decay in the air, Victor realizes Yuuri’s sister is dying.

Life, it seems, is not yet done with either of them. And how could Victor be done with it, when it has thrown him the best gift of all? A Yuuri and a Katsuki, a hunter, a man, a descendant of the one who first showed Victor both: life and love.

Now, given a chance like this, Victor could hardly let it pass him by. Oh no.

So he saves Yuuri’s sister, turns her and trains her, and keeps her in check when she spirals out of control as most newly turned vampires do. In turn, Yuuri’s family accepts him like one of their own. Under the warm roof of the Katsuki’s house, Victor’s heart thaws out the ice that has gathered there in the past centuries.

Yet, still, the one who manages to make it beat again is none other than Yuuri. A Yuuri, and a Katsuki, yes, but so different from the man whom Victor promised his heart to forever ago. This Yuuri, _his Yuuri_ , after all, knew what Victor was from the very start. And despite that, or maybe, Victor cannot help to think, _in spite of that_ , he came to love him. Against nature and reason and all the things in between.

And Victor, cracked open and vulnerable, answers with the same.

Love, after all, has always been the only thing he cherished more than life. Who would’ve guessed that he’d once more find someone to share both with? Someone to live for, to love, and to be loved – for now and forever, and a day longer, still.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it, even if it was super short 🙏❤️ happy halloween!! 💀💀💀


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